


ready, set

by averagefaces



Category: 2PM (Band)
Genre: 2pm Ensemble - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 19:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagefaces/pseuds/averagefaces
Summary: or: the two times nichkhun and wooyoung were not prepared for sex and the one time they were.





	ready, set

**Author's Note:**

> published march 2014. revised march 2017. reposted january 2019. this is a work of fiction, no harm intended to any parties involved. please do not repost/copy or translate without permission; you're welcome to share this link. thank you for reading!

 

one,

wooyoung looks at his watch and then up at nichkhun, waving his other hand vaguely. he nearly misses smacking nichkhun in the arm—nearly because he actually _wants_ to smack him, this is obviously his fault.

"this is your fault," he says, and nichkhun rolls his eyes. wooyoung is having none of that shit, though. "i'm serious, you asshole! we should be having sex by now!"

nichkhun sighs and nudges him, looking around. "we'll land soon. and then we'll have lots of sex, alright? _on a bed_."

wooyoung wrinkles his nose and nudges him back, harder than nichkhun did, though, and crosses his arms over his chest. "i hate you," he declares, and he has _a right_ here, people, because nichkhun had had one job— _one fucking job_ —and it'd been to get the lube and the condoms from their nightstand into nichkhun's _fucking purse_ ("it is a man purse, a murse, a murse!") so they could _have fun_ while their plane crossed the atlantic-or-whatever-ocean-it-is-supposed-to-be-now and yet.

and yet here they are. four hours in and who knows how many to go and wooyoung is bored out of his fucking mind and it's all nichkhun's fault. obviously.

wooyoung should've packed their bags himself. he never forgets the lube. _never_.

"are you honestly getting mad at me for not carrying lube and condoms in my bag?" nichkhun asks, and there's a tease to the curve of his lips, which wooyoung would very much like to smack off. or kiss, it's all rather relative when he's bored and hungry.

fuck, he's hungry, too.

he narrows his eyes. "we could be having great sex right now. _great sex_ , i tell you."

nichkhun full-on smiles at this and wiggles closer—as much as the seat will let him, anyway—until his head's on wooyoung's shoulder. "we always have great sex."

frustrated as he may be, wooyoung can't argue with that.

 

two,

paris is bright and loud and a bit chilly but wooyoung likes it. fuck, does he like it. he likes the freedom the best, though. there are fans following them around, sure, but they're kind of quiet, and the only time there seems to be a huge commotion is when chansung gets junho on a headlock and junho—despite himself, probably—wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

wooyoung barely pays them attention. he's got something else in his eye right now.

literally, that is.

"holy mother of _god_ , what the fuck," he swears, rubbing at his eye, and taecyeon guffaws as they enter the restaurant, waving his big, feathery scarf around. he hits minjun this time and wooyoung feels a vicious kind of happiness when minjun reaches over, steals the thing, and shoves it under an unoccupied table.

it's a really ugly scarf and it won't be missed.

"you okay?" nichkhun asks, peering at wooyoung and his fist, still rubbing his eye. "stop that, it'll only get worse."

"will it fall off?" junho asks hopefully, and wooyoung kicks him under the table as he takes a seat.

"i'm fine," wooyoung says and nichkhun smiles at him, wide and pretty under the yellow lights of the restaurant.

dinner is a loud experience, as it always is. wooyoung focuses on tasting everything on the table just so he can go back home and brag about it to his sister because when she went to florence all she could talk about was _the food, oh my god, wooyoung, the foooooooood_.

"don't try that, it's way too spicy," nichkhun coughs, pointing at a plate full of bouillabaisse. his cheeks are flushed and there's a bit of sauce sticking to the corner of his mouth and just like that wooyoung gives zero fucks about the food.

he clears his throat, licks his lips. nichkhun squints his eyes and shakes his head minutely, and wooyoung grins at him, doesn't even mind nichkhun reads him like an open book. it's actually a very nice feeling, the one that explodes in his chest.

"oh, come on," he leans in, voice pitched low. he throws in a couple of batting-eyelashes and a bit of under-the-table groping, his fingers tracing the inseam in nichkhun's jeans. "come on, it'll be quick, i promise."

"nothing's quick with you," nichkhun grumbles under the napkin he's using to wipe his lips clean. he's trying to hold back a laugh, what with the way his lips are tugging at the corners and his eyes are crinkly.

wooyoung grins wider, if possible, leans in a bit closer. "i really, _really_ wanna blow you right now. come on. you don't even have to return the favor. that's how much i want it."

nichkhun lets out a gasp-slash-sigh-slash-chuckle and shakes his head. "i'm wearing sponsor jeans, no way."

"fuck you, why are you even wearing sponsor clothes, we _are_ in the capital of fashion," wooyoung groans.

"that's new york, i think?"

"fuck you, don't argue with me right now." wooyoung glares.

"you two need to stop talking about sex," junho says from across the table. he's grinning, the kind of shit-eating grin he has when he thinks he's above everyone else. wooyoung is going to smack it off with a shoe one of these days.

"you suck," wooyoung tells junho.

junho grins, waggling his eyebrows. "and i swallow, too."

wooyoung pulls a face and turns to nichkhun just as chansung smacks junho over the head. "this is _all_ your fault, nichkhun, i swear."

  


three,

the first thing wooyoung does after getting off the stage is find jooseob because he's the one with the car keys and, consequently, _the car_ , and all wooyoung wants to do is get on that car, drive back to the hotel and fall face-first on the bed.

or maybe the hot-tub. maybe. depends on how much energy walking down to the parking lot takes out of him.

"i think i'm gonna puke," he tells no one in particular, but is grateful when nichkhun curls an arm around his waist as they make it to the car. "oh, man, i love you so much right now. like, really. you're basically carrying me. this is the best."

nichkhun smiles at him as they get on the car, ignoring junho and taecyeon fighting over who gets to go shotgun and pulling wooyoung close, his arm sneaking around wooyoung's shoulders. he's warm and smells _good_ , like the aftershave he always uses and clean, spicy sweat.

when wooyoung wakes up around forty minutes later, they're in the hotel's parking lot and their bed is so close he can almost _smell it_. "i need to be horizontal right now," he yawns. "vertical sleeping hurts a lot."

"you're gonna pass out soon, aren't you?" nichkhun chuckles and tightens his arm around wooyoung's shoulders once before letting go.

"nah, i still have like twenty minutes left of battery." he pulls nichkhun closer once they're in the elevator, grateful everyone else has decided to hit the bar and leave them alone. he leans in close, his face tucked against nichkhun's throat. "we should put them to good use."

"what, right here?" nichkhun doesn't even sound as scandalized as he should be. it is progress. still a bit too on the public eye for wooyoung, though.

"didn't peg you for an exhibitionist," he says, wrinkling his nose.

"you must be rubbing off on me," nichkhun says, and finds wooyoung's wrists around his waist, leading them down till wooyoung has two handfuls of nichkhun's ass.

"what are you—" but then he _feels_ , because how could he not, really—nichkhun groans softly at this and that's just _so good._ nichkhun's back pockets make a sound when wooyoung gropes a bit more intently, like plastic wrapper or foil or something being crushed and—oh.

 _oh_.

"you're so romantic," wooyoung sighs fondly, and slips both hands into nichkhun's back pockets. right one's condoms and left one's a little packet of lube. (he hopes it's not the only one because one is never enough and nichkhun should know better by now.) he pulls away and nips at the hinge of nichkhun's jaw, dropping a kiss as if to soothe the bite. "found the way to my heart, didn't you?" he murmurs.

"i tried," nichkhun chuckles as the doors open and the door to their room is visible. "come on, we've got four days of sex to catch up on."

 

**_the end._ **


End file.
